


Transparent

by Klaise



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Karan being adorable, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:13:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4031389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klaise/pseuds/Klaise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nezumi lies awake with his thoughts, but no matter how much as he wishes he could blend into the perpetual darkness that fills their underground hideaway, he can't hide from his little prince. Fluffy cuddle-fic, light NezuShi, and some of the deepening bonds between them. Spanning over several years, the ties between them simply won't fade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Transparent

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own No. 6
> 
> Just some fluffy drabble to empty out my mind for a while.

The small underground room smothered in inky blackness every night. No windows allowed moonlight to filter in, and the flickering candles beside the lamp had been snuffed before bed. One wouldn’t know that the morning sun had risen if a small mouse hadn’t squeaked its alarm at daybreak. Nonetheless, in this perpetual darkness, Nezumi swore he could see Shion’s snowy hair sharing the pillow next to his own. He felt the desperate urge to stroke it gently, like one might a cat. Rats shouldn’t like cats, he thought absentmindedly, laying curled against the other body for warmth and, dare he admit it, comfort.

Shion hadn’t been here for long, but the more time he spent in the naïve boy’s company the more drawn to him he grew. _Drawn to him_. He had told Shion that a word such as _drawn_ was a weighty, important word. One only to be used for a special, irreplaceable person in your life. Deep down, he knew it fit. At this point he couldn’t imagine an empty bed every night, or coming home from work to an empty house instead of a smiling boy and a pot of over-seasoned soup for dinner.

Shion muttered something unintelligible and rolled over in Nezumi’s arms to face him, slowly blinking awake. “Nezumi?” he called softly into the darkness, feeling a fluttering heartbeat against him instead of the slow, calm beat of a sleeping person. “Why are you awake?”

“I could ask you the same thing, your Majesty,” Nezumi smirked. Before Shion could reply, his head was pulled forward and buried in the crook of Nezumi’s shoulder and collarbone. He didn’t resist, understanding that if the other wanted to cuddle, something must have been off. He intertwined his legs with longer ones, wrapping his arms tightly around Nezumi’s waist, and attempted to look up.

“What’s the matter?”

A heavy sigh escaped pale lips, which frightened the rat. He’d been going against his teachings all too often as of late. “Nothing that should concern a little prince such as yourself. Simply too many thoughts running around tonight.”

Shion lay silently for a moment, before almost whispering. “You’re worried, aren’t you?“ He pressed a hand to Nezumi’s heart, memorizing the pulse beneath his fingertips. “But your heart is beating, and you feel warm. So what do you have to be anxious about?”

Nezumi had to admit that on several occasions he had discovered that a sleepy Shion could be much more eloquent than an alert one, but it unnerved him nevertheless. He continued to stroke the soft locks nuzzled against his chest and took a calming breath. “If I ever leave, don’t listen to every philosophic voice that calls you.” He could sense the confusion painting Shion’s face with these words, and fully anticipated the reply.

“Where are you going, Nezumi?” his sentence was broken by a yawn, and the rat stroked his scarred cheek with the back of his hand.

“Don’t worry. I don’t want to leave this charming snake,” he exhaled softly, pressing a light kiss to the top of smooth white hair. His actions were so uncharacteristically gentle, Shion hardly knew how to react. Instead, his arms tightened around the thin, muscular yet slightly malnourished waist and he looked up to press a chaste kiss to faintly chapped lips above him.

Nezumi’s haunting voiced echoed words he remembered uttering all too well. “Was that a good night kiss?” He felt Shion shake his head against his chest.

“A promise. I won’t leave you. You won’t have to sleep alone in this bed, and you won’t have to come home with no one to welcome you back. That’s what you’re worried about, right? Separation?”

Though it wasn’t quite the mark, the point hit close enough. Nezumi made a noise of recognition in the back of his throat and rolled over, pulling Shion to lay on top of him. The weight and warmth were comfortable, and the albino didn’t object. He took one last deep breath, feeling the emotional weight lifted off his chest. Emotions were too foreign of a concept. They couldn’t be analyzed as easily as a story or a play when they wrestled around in the confines of his own mind, so he typically opted to ignore them rather than expend the energy to untangle them. But Shion made it easier to cope with.

“My little prince wouldn’t leave me willingly, but if he doesn’t exercise some caution he may break that noble promise.”

Sheepishly, Shion turned to face the wall. “I’ll see what I can do. I’m learning quickly as it is.” Another yawn interrupted him, and Nezumi held the boy tighter. “I understand you so much better when you’re not acting so emotionless,” he murmured.

Nezumi cut him off promptly, out of habit if nothing else. “Time to sleep. You have to wash dogs in the morning.” Before he could reply, Shion fell back to sleep soundly, using Nezumi as his pillow. He combed black hair back from his face with his fingers before pulling the shared blanket over both bodies, and slipping into his own sleep until the shrill squeaking woke him up.

Where no sun shone resided a tiny world of blankets and body heat, the one and only space where Nezumi dared let his carefully constructed fortress slip and his feelings to spill out. Only Shion would be there, non-judgmental with precise answers that nullified his weaknesses. He didn’t have to worry about the light shining on his fragility of spirit to prove the existence of faults; he could pretend defenselessness was nothing more than a dream. Shion’s small arms were tightly wound around him as his breathing evened out slowly, and Nezumi could only wish that the seemingly-eternal night truly would never end.


	2. Phantom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shion's nightmares plague him after their parting, but somehow Nezumi will always appear right when he needs him.

Dusk had painted the sky a fiery orange by the time Shion walked through the bakery’s door that evening. The past week had kept him at work until nightfall with committee meetings and council emergencies. Admittedly, he hadn’t imagined that the task of rebuilding No. 6 would be so daunting. Toeing his shoes off, he tossed his briefcase of reports and his jacket to the ground. The lingering aroma of baking bread and the wafting one of stew rushed to his head, and suddenly he felt famished.   
  
A familiar twinge of longing thrummed through his chest but he quickly shook it off. The flash of entering a small underground room and a scrap of the memory of bubbling soup were enough to bring him to his knees some days, but Shion was bound and determined to repress them. Here, Karan cooked his supper in the evenings just like when he was younger. She was the only one in the house with him, and she joked and asked about his day whether he was coming home from elementary school or returning from a hard day’s work.   
  
“Shion, is that you?” his mother’s sweet voice carried from the kitchen, and Shion called back.   
  
“I’m home, mom,” he found her setting two places at the small dining room table, and he immediately relieved the plates from her hands so she could return to the stew on the stove and the bread baking in the oven.  
  
She smiled gratefully and Shion sat down, leaning his head on his hand. “How was work today, honey? More logistic headaches?”  
  
“The usual. The departments only argue with each other. We’re almost at a standstill, and I can’t convince them to compromise.” He rolled his shoulders back and heaved a sigh that wracked his small frame. Karan hadn’t seen, or she would have tossed him a disapproving glance at his stress level.   
  
“There’s always a third option in the middle, isn’t there?” she reasoned, setting the pot in the center of the table.  
  
“Nezumi wouldn’t agree with you on that one,” he informed her casually. Karan never tired of hearing Shion tell stories about the rat. It was insight to a world that she had never experienced, even though the person closest to her had. And Nezumi had brought that son safely back to her despite all odds. She figured it pained Shion to talk about his friend since he had left suddenly (though they had seemed so attached), so she never pressed, but always listened intently whenever he chose to mention him.   
  
“Oh? And why not?”   
  
“Because he only sees in black and white. There was always only inside the wall and outside. Even I was an outsider to him,” Shion chuckled, a slightly rueful tone tingeing the act. It was gradually becoming more and more difficult every day, mentioning Nezumi nonchalantly and spooning warm stew into his mouth after work.  
  
Karan was silent for a moment as she read the stress and pain in her son’s eyes. She knew that Shion thought he was hiding his longing for Nezumi, but she was tired of seeing that ached expression glossed over his soft face.   
  
“Honey, haven’t you ever thought about moving on?” Karan’s concerned question sent needles through Shion. “You’re so consumed with reconstructing this city, and when you finally get your mind off of work it’s back on Nezumi. It’s possible that he won’t come back, and I don’t want to see you so distressed that he’s gone.” Her words of tough love had always held merit, but this time Shion disagreed.   
  
He shook his head, the snowy locks his mother had only recently adjusted to swishing with the motion. “No, he’ll be back.” It was as simple a fact as the sky was blue or the grass green that Nezumi would uphold his promise and return to his side. But suddenly the room felt too warm and he stood up, blood rushing to his head in a dizzy spell. “I’m going to bed. It’s been a long day.”   
  
Without another word on the matter, he placed his empty bowl in the sink and ascended the stairs. “Don’t forget to close your window; It's going to be chilly tonight,” Karan reminded as she sat at the table staring at the flickering candles around her, a still standard here in what formally stood as Lost Town. Shion may not have wanted to hear it, but his health was her main concern. She could only hope that her son came around to letting go, or that the part of his life he felt missing came back soon.   
  
  
oOo  
  
  
Shion fell into the small single bed without stripping off his formal clothes only after shutting the window above the small desk. The feelings straining his chest now scared him, even if that hadn’t been his mother’s intention. Nezumi had been gone for almost three years. Even Shionn was changing now. Three years left him no longer the abandoned infant, so he was looked after by Inukashi and raised by the dogs inhabiting the crumbled hotel. Karan had difficulty letting go of helping Inukashi daily with the baby, but realized that running a bakery while chasing a toddler was easier said than done.  
  
Shion felt weak. Night after night, the same dreams plagued him. Sometimes the chains that tied Nezumi to him fell as a burden. He’d often jolt upwards in shock, panting and drenched in cold sweat. His mother didn’t even bother to call to him every time he screamed in his sleep anymore, it had become so commonplace. This night he couldn’t even tell where his thoughts blended into dreams as he fell into a restless sleep.   
  
He looked around and absorbed the sight of heaps of corpses piled up, blood constantly trickling down, and raking screams assaulting his ears as harshly as his sanity. Glancing down, Nezumi lay bleeding in his arms and the shrill panic of the thought _h_ _e’s going to die_ rattled his brain. Suddenly the lifeless shell across the room fell with a dull thud, and the gun set heavy and blood-slicked in his grip. Shion thrashed in his sleep, little moans and whimpers escaping his parted lips. Shion couldn’t remember the last time he had slept soundly.   
  
That was a lie. He never suffered these when he had slept with Nezumi.   
  
There was a distinction between those nightmares and the ones currently. When they had slept together Shion had dreamt of his mother, of Safu being kidnapped, of being drug down to a Hell that was more brutal than the Correctional Facility for abandoning those close to him. But as soon as he began to struggle they would smooth over, a hauntingly sweet voice overtaking the images searing his mind. Shion never recognized consciously what that voice was; it sounded like a wind carrying his fears away. But even cocooned in darkness, that voice would render the image of those stony, grey eyes. Eyes that had turned him into a poet before he could even ask the rat’s name.   
  
Tonight Shion’s nightmares were once again broken in a way he only held memories of. The scenes faded into darkness that reminded him of so many nights in that tiny, underground room he and Nezumi had eaten, slept, fought, made amends, and even danced together in. He could even feel a fluttering heartbeat near his own. He imagined the sensation of gentle, calloused fingers brushing the matted hair from his shut eyes after tracing along his scar, and sighed. His mind even conjured the rare, low snicker he’d recognize anywhere that answered his exhale.   
  
Reveling in fantasies such as these wasn’t something Shion was proud of, but he did so all the same. He knew deep down that his mother was right; One day he’d have to give up the memory of Nezumi. But it wasn’t the time for that yet. Not while he still held faith in their reunion.   
  
A quiet squeaking stirred him. It didn’t seem to be his imagination. He hadn’t heard a familiar mouse in ages, not since Tsukiyo had disappeared in search of his master with a note no more than seven words capsuled in his cheeks.   
  
_Please come back soon._  
  
He never received a reply.  
  
But the squeaking soon silenced and Shion rolled over and fell deeper into sleep without another thought, mildly notorious for being difficult to wake up. It wasn’t like Nezumi was really there to comfort him.  
  
oOo  
  
Karan peeked into her son’s room to find him quieted down, curled up and sleeping soundly. That was unusual. She’d heard his night terror from the room over, and though she was used to his affliction she usually checked in when she heard him yell out. She was about to leave again when her gaze was averted by the billowing curtains above the desk. Outside it was lightly drizzling, a grey mist hanging overhead, and the sun threatened to emerge from the horizon, already painting the sky with pastels. She noticed damp fingerprints she assumed to be Shion’s lacing the windowsill as she lowered it softly. He was 19 now but still acted like a child. Hadn’t she told him to close the window before bed? 


	3. Enigma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My proof-reader’s recommended listening: Celtic harp music. http://youtu.be/5sujKEHe41s
> 
> Thank you for reading this far. I hope you enjoy it.

_Enigma_

 

Very seldom did Shion allow his mind to wander. For weeks on end his demanding position as the council director for the committee rebuilding No. 6 required a razor-sharp intellect and usually more focus than he could muster. There simply weren’t enough hours in the day to construct a new society as well as daydream of the past.

Though however tense and drained, on rare occasions he would lay in bed staring at his ceiling and allow his thoughts to drift to a certain raven-haired rat. The memories were always the same, just like the questions rattling around in his skull. Why hadn’t Nezumi ever replied to the message Shion had sent to him in Tsukiyo’s cheeks long ago? He always drew up several possibilities. Part of him doubted the note ever made it to the rat, but the other figured he had read Shion’s plea and simply never wrote a reply, while the tiny messenger had never returned in favor of his true master.

Maybe Nezumi hadn’t known how to answer such a request as “Come back home”, or maybe he just hadn’t wanted to.

Shion blinked awake hesitantly after yet another night of restless dreams and the cold cruelty of his memories. The first thing that clawed for attention was his splitting headache as scarlet eyes adjusted to the intense sunlight pouring in. But as Shion sat up in bed he jolted at an insistent squeaking. He couldn’t believe his eyes as a little black mouse peered up at him curiously from its perch on his chest. It chirped once more before spitting a note capsule out at his paws. Shion fumbled over his fingers, unraveling the slip of paper in a desperate frenzy.

Three words gazed calmly back at him: _Soon, your Majesty._

Hot blood surged under his porcelain skin. Without context the note was obscure, but Shion recalled exactly what he had sent two years ago: “Please come back. I want to see you”. The simple message had Shion biting back tears when he wrote it. But this meant Nezumi was coming back. Nezumi was returning just like he promised.

He would be within Shion’s grasp again.

Even without a specified time or place, excitement burned in his chest. He rushed to change out of the crumpled clothes he had worn to work and fallen asleep in. He needed to show the note to his mother. Maybe then she wouldn’t fret and fuss so much about his well-being. As he pulled a pastel cardigan on over his snowy hair, Tsukiyo squeaked indignantly and scurried up his arm to settle in his breast pocket.

Tumbling downstairs with the paper clutched tightly in his palm, the bright morning light flooding in stopped him dead in his tracks.

Nezumi settled at the cozy kitchen table, swathed in sunlight and nonchalantly drinking a mug of black coffee along with one of Karan’s famous muffins. His dark hair was longer in its ponytail than Shion remembered, and the jacket draped across the back of the chair was coated in dust though it remained un-tattered.

“Sleeping in like a prince, I see. It’s a luxury not having to wash dogs at sunrise, isn’t it?” Nezumi chuckled at Shion’s silent, awestruck expression. _Always the open book_. He sipped his drink.

The casual tone caused Shion’s eyes to dilate into saucers as he attempted to process the presence before him. “Nezumi, you’re--”

“Here? Alive? Still taller than you?” the rat finished with a teasing smirk. “All of the above, yes. I promised you, didn’t I?” Proper words were escaping Shion’s rapier-sharp mind as he spluttered a response, making Nezumi laugh harder than he had in a long time. Too long, he thought. “I remember leaving an eloquent little boy, but I seem to have returned to a mute, grown nobleman. “How time doth change his nature”.”

“Shakespeare. Act five of _The Merchant of Venice_ ,” Shion’s first intelligible words rattled off the source of the quote without thinking. Nezumi applauded slowly.

“My, my. I’m surprised you haven’t lost your touch.” Before Shion could respond, lightning reflexes brought Nezumi’s breath to feather across Shion’s ear. “I’m quite impressed.” He embraced the slighter body, tracing the red snake scar he found so alluring with his thumb and staring into pretty, red orbs, entranced. Leaning forward suddenly, his lips swiped across Shion’s, who quickly closed his eyes in turn. Though the moment was all too short-lived.

“Nezumi,” Shion breathed when it was over, “What was that for?”

“A thank-you kiss,” Nezumi replied, his arms still wound around the shorter boy’s waist. “You waited for me. A proper guest never intrudes without a gift for his gracious host.”

Try as he might, Shion couldn’t help but submit to the mysterious grey eyes that had haunted his dreams for almost three years. They came in second in perplexity only to their owner. He stared, enraptured, until he was abruptly spun out of Nezumi’s grasp and onto a chair the same moment Karan bustled into the sunny kitchenette.

“Ah, you’re awake,” she smiled sunnily at Shion. “This one came knocking at the door just before I was about to open the shop, staring at the door like death haunted the other side. I had to scold him for not saying proper goodbyes before disappearing for so long, and he just stared at the ground and asked to see you so awkwardly,” she giggled.

It was Shion’s turn to smirk at Nezumi, who for once seemed out of retorts. “You? Awkward?”

The deer-in-headlights expression as Nezumi stuttered to cover up his fall from grace sent Shion into a laughing fit as the rat settled for slumping indignantly, arms crossed and face burning with his rare humiliation. Only as lovely a lady as Karan could leave the mighty Nezumi stunned by wit.

Karan patted Nezumi’s shoulder comfortingly. “Oh, don’t take it so hard, dear. I’ve heard Shion call out your name in his sleep on several occasions. I think you’re both even in embarrassment,” a twinkle of mischief glimmered in her eyes as it was her son’s turn to defend himself.

“Mom!” Shion whined. His scar was almost invisible with the blush on his cheeks.

She cheerfully ignored the plea. “Oh, I have to run to and buy more flour in a while, so I need you to watch the shop for a bit later.”

Shion nodded dumbly and his mother smiled. Nezumi glanced down at the pale fist clutching his shirt under the table. Suddenly he threw his arm around Shion’s shoulders and pulled him close, “Don’t worry ma’am, I’ll watch him while you’re away,” he grinned. Shion rolled his eyes.

“Can you manage it? He used to be so energetic, running around the house,” she sighed wistfully.

“My babysitting skills are a little rusty, but I think I can handle him,” Nezumi ruffled the white head of hair jokingly, and though petulant, Shion didn’t swat the hand away.

The baker laughed breezily before the oven timer dinged from the kitchen next door. “Oh, that’s the croissants,” she grinned. “I was just kidding you boys. But take good care of him while I’m away!” She hurried out of the room to save the bread from burning.

“Your mama is a real piece of work, you know that?” Nezumi shook his head and brushed the bangs from his eyes. “But Cravat was right about these muffins.”

Shion glanced up innocently, sulking forgotten. “You called him Cravat. What happened to not naming your mice?”

Nezumi looked puzzled for a moment. “Oh, yeah, I guess I picked up the habit after I left,” he shrugged. “Don’t give me that smug grin.”

The moment felt so surreal that Shion had to grasp Nezumi’s arms to be sure he was real.

“Hey now, what’s wrong?” the rat held his hands out away from the boy, floored when he looked down to only a tufts of white hair and a scarred face buried in his sternum. How was he supposed to react to such an honest embrace?

He gently tried to pry Shion off. “Come on, if you want to cuddle save it for bed. That’s not proper table manners.”

“I’m so happy you’re back,” he mumbled into the familiar long-sleeved shirt. “It’s hard to believe you’re real when you’re not showing up to save my life.”

“That’s enough,” Nezumi hooked a finger under Shion’s chin and lifted his head. He offered a rare tranquil smile that Shion couldn’t help but return. Crimson eyes danced with ashen grey and no words were uttered to break the calm between them.

Across from Shion lay a mystery. A puzzle he was content never fully solving because all of the past loneliness swept away like dust just from holding the other. The rat had left for years and yet Shion held no curiosity of his travels, only the bliss of having him returned. His arms wrapped around the warm, thin waist in front of him. There wasn’t any other form of love in the world that compared to the intensity that filled his heart in this moment.

Nezumi wasn’t so good of an actor as to be able to lie and say that he didn’t feel the same rush of emotions. But that didn’t mean he had to accept them so easily. Feelings were still something to be wary of, not to embrace wholeheartedly. There had once been a time when he had felt comfortable around Shion, enough to confide into him on the occasional pitch-black night. The memories of lying next to a sleepy Shion who could prod blindly into his heart were some of his favorite, yet also his most terrifying. How could this one foolish boy hold so much power without realizing what lay in the palms of his hands?

“Did the other mice come with you?” Shion’s clear words chiseled into his thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, they must be upstairs. They came in with Tsukiyo.” The small mouse chirped from the basket of muffins on the table at his name.

Shion scooped up the mouse and ascended the stairs, Nezumi trailing behind him to the room he’d snuck into via trellis outside of the window the night before. He admitted the cliché but let it slide for once.

Familiar squeaks and chatters filled the air of the small bedroom as the two mice clambered up on the desk to see Shion, who held his palm out for both of them. He stroked them between the ears until the chittering ceased.

“They’re still fond of you as ever, I see,” the rat remarked, flopping down onto the twin sized bed in the corner. “This is a comfortable bed. Would you mind lending it to me again?” he grinned.

Shion allowed himself to laugh at the lightheartedness of the situation. “Do you really need to? You’re not an injured vagabond this time around.”

Nezumi offered an offended expression. “Me? A vagabond? How cruel. I was merely mortally wounded. And you,” he tugged Shion down on top of him, face to face. “Were dead-set on saving my life."

Nezumi had forgotten just how intoxicating the warmth Shion constantly radiated could be. The other boy brushed his dark hair from his eyes, and he wondered if Shion realized how captivating he was. “You don’t hate me.” It wasn’t a question.

Shion shook his head, white locks swaying in time. “I couldn’t. Hating you would mean accepting that I didn’t want you to come back.”

“And for some reason you wanted me back.”

Shion let his weight drop, laying flush against Nezumi. “I have nothing without the faith that you’ll always come back for me.”

Once more their lips brushed for the faintest of moments, and once more they separated like the two kissers always would. Both lay with their eyes shut, Shion’s face buried in the crook of Nezumi’s neck, and the rat’s arms cradling the smaller boy to him. The engulfing silence was a pleasant one that lingered even as they gently kissed once, twice, three times more. Enough for Shion to confirm that Nezumi wasn’t a ghost that would soon fade into transparency. He hadn’t realized that he was crying until Nezumi brushed the hot tears from his cheeks.

“I missed you so much.”

“I know.”

Simple exchanges were their specialty, and Shion hadn’t expected more, nor had he wanted it. The soothing grey eyes spilled the truth, _I missed you too._

Breeze from the open window flustered their hair as Nezumi rolled them over onto their sides. He gently twined Shion’s fingers in his own, rubbing his thumb absently against the smaller palm. “So what’s life like here? Are Inukashi and the old man still alive?”

Shion perked up at the names and a mouse squeaked in recognition across the room. “We have them over for dinner sometimes. Shionn has grown a lot, too. He’s nearly four, we think. Mom says he seems that age, at least. I guess she would know best,” he trailed off.

“Have you ever been back to the library?” It was a tentative question, but Nezumi was curious.

Shion thought for a moment. “No, I didn’t want to change the memories I have. Right now when I think about it, I remember the all the nights we shared. But if I were to go back my reality of that place would change, and I wouldn’t like to think of it as empty.”

Nezumi didn’t reply. Instead he pulled Shion closer and shut his eyes, falling into the familiar position they slept in when sharing a bed. “I hate to think of all those books falling to ruin,” he muttered as Shion’s eyes slipped shut, though he remained uneasy. “Go to sleep, I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

With that, the weight of the boy’s arm across his waist increased as he relaxed and Nezumi could tell Shion was lulled. Staring intently at the smaller boy, he stroked the lovely sun-drenched hair and hoped that Karan hadn’t been serious about wanting them to watch the bakery until sleep stole him as well.

 

 

“You’re leaving again.”

Again, it wasn’t a question. Now the sky burned pale orange near the horizon before fading into a faintly blue cap. Waking from their nap had prompted Nezumi to ask Shion on a walk. A familiar sinking feeling had settled in the gut of the latter.

Nezumi shook his head, almost regretfully. “I would ask, “Do I have an option”, but you and I both know our answers are different.”

Shion couldn’t stifle the bitterness tinging his voice. “Why did you come back if you weren’t going to stay?”

“I was under the impression that princes were above such brutally blunt questions,” he smirked, but the fondness in his eyes spoiled it. “Well maybe I just wanted to see how this parasitic city was coming along with a spoiled boy for a ruler.” He broke their eye contact to stare out at the sunset, such a familiar painting of parting ways. “Maybe I just needed to see you again. Every four years seems like a reasonable number.”

Shion gaped. “Nezumi!”

“Fine, fine. I’ll be back sooner this time. How’s that?”

Shion’s gaze stuck to the ground. “Why do you have to leave?”

The heavy sigh from Nezumi was an answer in and of itself. “I told you before that we can’t be together. Isn’t that obvious? There’s so much that separates us, Shion. But there’s also enough tying us together that I could never truly escape, even if I wanted to.”

There was a silence. “Do you want to?”

And once more Shion found his head tilted up and his lips met with the sweetest of kisses. It had once been an oath, but this time it felt like gratitude. “Was that a thank-you kiss?”

“You’re getting better,” Nezumi smiled, brushing hair out of the boy’s eyes. “Willing to place faith in my return while you have a city to rebuild; how silly.” He pressed a final kiss to Shion’s scarred cheek. “Just keep waiting a little more. Finish restoring this ‘utopia’. I’ll always wander back to you.”

_And maybe once you’ve constructed a city as innocent as yourself I can stay._


End file.
